Factory Food
by ardavenport
Summary: The Masters take the Padawans to lunch.


**FACTORY FOOD**

by ardavenport

* * *

A great mob of people disembarked from the mega-tram onto the waiting platform. As soon as they had flowed out, a new mob advanced, pushing through and around the newcomers to fill up the car again. As soon as it whizzed away over the elevated rails a new mega-tram arrived and the process began again.

Ten brown Jedi robes, from shades of sand to deep soil, filtered through the multi-species crowd and reformed into their group again by a pillar in a little eddy of calm amidst the shuffling, chattering and grunting around them.

Obi-Wan Kenobi pulled the hood of his robe back down off his short, thick gingery brown hair, revealing his Padawan's braid hanging down past his right shoulder and tail lock tied on the back of his head. His Master and companions removed their hoods as well. Four of them had similar Padawan braids and locks in different shades of hair. They all faced the busy entrance of a huge, boxy building. "F'Yeddas Royah" glowed bright yellow and pale blue in the midday shadows of the city, rising high over the entrance, each symbol nearly half as tall as the building itself.

"I haven't been to this place in years," Master Elest Emordi announced, her big head of frizzy gray hair bouncing a little in currents of air caused by the motion of so many other bodies walking around them.

"This should be fun," her friend, Master Porum Kyas, commented next to her. They charged forward, Elest's her short stout outline complimented by his tall thin one, Porum's his gray top knot waving behind them. The rest of them followed.

The people slowed and formed a denser mass as they spread out to go through the long line of tall doorways that formed them into lines when they pressed through. Qui-Gon Jinn put his arm over Obi-Wan's shoulders to keep the crowd from separating them. Ahead of them, Master Porum did the same with his younger Padawan, Dubbin. Elest was ahead of them. The other five members of their group kept close behind Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan.

Once through the doors, blocky gray metal droids instructed them to go through the life-sign scanner arches 'ONE AT A TIME'. They each had to present identification to be scanned separately because of the power supplies in their lightsabers. Others behind the Jedi group grumbled about the delay. The lines on either side of them moved faster. Once through the arch, Obi-Wan waited at the side with the others for the rest of the Jedi to get through. They collected in a side area reserved for large groups. When all the Jedi had gotten through, single diners and groups of twos and threes rushed through the scanner to the line of greeter droids further inside. Elest waved and a blocky greeter droid came to them and inquired if their group was all assembled.

Producing them from the orderly bin attached to its side, the droids spindly arms rapidly attached colored bibs around each of their necks. Obi-Wan, Qui-Gon, Elest, Dubbin and Master Chatmaren all got light blue. Knight Semko got broad white and pale yellow stripes. Semko's Padawan, Ahmi, and Chatmaren's Padawan, Bibow, got white. Knight Hohkard got broad white and pale blue stripes and Master Porum got pink. Now neatly tagged by species type, the droid handed Elest their table assignment on a glowing flat panel.

After the droid scanned her credit chip to pay for lunch for all of them, Elest strode inside without a backward glance. They all followed. For the six days that they had been attending the Intergalactic Law Enforcement Conference, Obi-Wan had never seen Master Elest go anywhere slowly. Everything seemed to be a mission of importance for her. She was more than ten years older than Qui-Gon but age had not tempered her energy or her brusk personality. They passed into an immense dining hall to a raised, wide center aisle. The sound of thousands of beings having lunch echoed from the high ceiling above. There were small flying droids in the rafters. A multitude of smells and aromas assaulted them as they moved further inside.

On either side of them tables of beings of many sizes, colors and numbers of appendages ate, slurped, chomped and slobbered over their meals while chatting with and spitting on their comrades. Flat pyramidal cooking, buffet and fresher stations stood tall over the vast plain of the dining hall. The F'Yeddas Royah was no simple cafeteria or restaurant. It was a factory of food and consumption. Going the other way, satisfied patrons passed them in the aside, most of their bibs gone.

Elest hopped off the walkway more than halfway to the back of the building. They followed, descending and weaving among the smaller tables. Their table, a big round one, was not too far from the aisle. Most of the diners around them were various Humanoids. For convenience, the food stations were mostly divided by species, but flat serving lifters whizzed overhead, ferrying all varieties of food to all parts of the vast dining hall.

A more slender serving droid greeted them and began slapping down fresh condiments, finger bowls and hand towels. A single, lonely yellow flower occupied a blue vase as a centerpiece in the middle of the table's rotating center section.

"All right you go here," Elest directed Dubbin to an empty seat. "And you there, and you there, and you." She placed Obi-Wan, Bibow and Ahmi next to him.

"And you." She pointed at Hokard and then the chair next to Ahmi. "Go there. And you." This it time it was Qui-Gon. "Here."

"I'll go here." Elest threw her robe over the empty chair next to Qui-Gon.

"Porum, you go here," she invited to her friend.

"You go there," she pointed at Semko.

"And Chatmaren is last," Elest finished, assigning the last seat.

They took there robes off and hung them over the backs of their orange plastoid chairs. Obi-Wan could not think of any good reason for Elest to have appointed herself to 'keep them all organized' other than that she seemed to like doing and none of the other Masters cared. Elest had been useful keeping Semko, Ahmi and Hohkard from being late to a few things.

However, this seating arrangement was suspicious. Instead of Masters next to Padawans, their usual seating when eating together, the four Padawans faced all six Knights and Masters. Bibow looked at him with a curious expression on her green and brown mottled face. She had noticed the same thing. Ahmi and Dubbin, the two younger Padawans looked from them to their elders.

Another serving droid arrived with a cart loaded with orange plastoid cups and pitchers of drinks. The droid slapped the cups down at all ten place mats at the table with long, extending arms and pushed pitchers and extra cups to the table's center. As soon as it left, Obi-Wan reached for a pitcher of water, but Elest bid them all to follow her to the buffet.

Frowning, Obi-Wan poured his water first. He did not see any reason why he had to do everything Elest said. Qui-Gon and Bibow stayed and poured tea for themselves. Dubbin hesitated, looking at the juice, but the heavy-set, orange-haired boy hurried after his Master and the others instead.

The buffet took up two whole sides of their local pyramid. Obi-Wan went first, with Qui-Gon and Bibow behind him. He took a large, round, deep green leaf from the stacks at the start of buffet. The signs at the beginning listed a very typical arrangement; raw and dried foods were first, then sauces, side dishes next followed by main dishes, both raw and cooked and then soups, baked side dishes and grains. Deserts cost extra and were served separately by the droids. Food dished items were grouped under floating signs overhead indicating which bib color they matched. Most of them had all the different bib colors the Jedi wore, but a few had only one or two. A droid voice coming from under the trays of food would warn anyone who reached for the wrong color.

The line was slow. A woman with three children and a serving droid to carry their leaf-plates kept stopping to lift each child so he or she could see what they would get. Obi-Wan used the delay to put his leaf-plate down and roll his tunic sleeves up in case anything he wanted was in the back.

Slowly, Obi-Wan's leaf filled with appetizer nuts, salad with sauce, tummah-bean and vegatable cassarole and crispy bread sticks. Qui-Gon had a chunky salad and a big lump of chudda grains. He also took a soup skin. Bibow had cooked vegetables, a huge slab of pressed moolu steak and steamed zom-roots.

"Well, I thought you three got lost," Hohkard commented when they returned.

"We were delayed," Qui-Gon sighed.

The table was full. Everyone else had started eating and the finger bowls, condiments and pitchers were scattered about. Obi-Wan had to mind his elbows between Bibow and Dubbin. Masters Chatmaren and Porum were describing an argument they had with Mottimi judge to the others.

There were no eating utensils, so, Obi-Wan tasted his cassarole and salad with his fingers. They were excellent. Holding onto his already rolled up sleeve, Obi-Wan reached across to the faded orange hand towels next to his finger bowl.

A pair of snippers clinked as they lifted up from the fixed holder at the center of the table. They and a cup floated to Qui-Gon. No one paid any attention to this conspicuous use of the Force. Semko, apparently inspired, started to tell everyone about Qui-Gon's mis-adventure in the conference exhibit hall while he punctured his soup skin and poured the contents into his cup.

A lock manufacturer, demonstrating her company's wares, had invited the attendees to try to open a safe box with a variety of supposedly illegal devices. Qui-Gon had stepped forward and not only popped open the box with a single gesture, but waved open all the door, window and safe locks behind the astonished company reps there. They had been so upset that they called conference security and tried to get Qui-Gon removed.

"I think that's why Jinn's not giving any of the talks at this thing," Hohkard smirked. Elest frowned at both of them before she floated a condiment bottle to her own hand.

"Dubbin," Elest called. "Would you please pass me the red sauce?"

Dubbin looked up from his food and half-rising reached for one of the bottles in front of him and put it on the center round. Obi-Wan grimaced as an edge of Dubbin's sleeve grazed his half-full plate. Dubbin pushed the round, revolving the bottle on to the other side of the table. but before it was half way there the Force lifted it up and delivered it to Elest's waiting hand.

Looking a little embarrassed, Dubbin resumed his seat and went back to scooping up fingerfuls of his blue mash. He looked uncomfortable under Elest's gaze, but he kept his eyes forward and Master Porum gave him a reassuring nod. Only fourteen standard years of age, Dubbin was the youngest Padawan in the group and he had confessed to Obi-Wan that Elest's overbearing personality had always intimidated him and had not been looking forward to this assignment. But his Master only told him that he had to find his own way of dealing with her.

Obi-Wan had been able let Dubbin know that Elest sometimes went too far when he told him and the other Padawans the story of how Elest, Porum and a group of other Masters had embarrassed themselves almost four years ago when he was fifteen by using the Force to start a food fight in Qui-Gon's room. They all laughed and Dubbin had been less wary when Elest next admonished them to 'be on time', but now the boy looked like he was trying to pass a test.

Obi-Wan wondered if they all were.

Again, Obi-Wan looked at the seating arrangements, where all the Masters could conveniently watch all the Padawans while Qui-Gon told the others that the supposed lock breakers at that exhibitor's booth had been fake.

Obi-Wan opened his hand. He could feel the whole table and the clutter on it through the Force. A bottle of white sauce by Semko's left elbow lifted up, glided across the table, arcing over the pitchers in the middle and landed in his palm. None of the Master's seemed to notice, which meant to Obi-Wan that they must have. He tried a little of the sauce on his cassarole, but it was bland to his taste.

Next to him, Dubbin looked impressed. And hungry. Obi-Wan offered him the bottle and Dubbin eagerly took it and poured a gob into the multi-colored sauce collection already on his sturdy, but still abused plate-leaf. Bits of food had fallen over its sagging edges onto the orange place mat under it.

A pitcher of tea lifted up and wobbled toward Bibow. The tea sloshed dangerously when she grabbed it but fortunately it was only half full. She and Obi-Wan shared a look. None of the Masters seemed to care. Elest and Porum talked about the newly appointed planetary police chiefs and deputies who had attended their fairly routine presentation about the authority of the Jedi on Republic worlds.

Frivolous use of the Force was forbidden, especially for Padawan Learners, but everyone was expected to use their own judgement about what 'frivolous' meant. Normally that would include public places with many tables of other diners around them. But the table logistics were terrible. There was only just enough room for the ten of them to eat. Reaching for a drink or a condiment risked tipping something over or dragging a sleeve through a meal.

Ahmi, with a fierce expression on her smoky-gray face was eyeing a water pitcher. It shuddered. Bibow hastily poked the younger girl.

"If you have to strain for it, it's not going to work right. And I don't want to clean up all that water," Bibow hissed. Then she whispered something so low that even Obi-Wan could not hear it through the echoing noise around them. Ahmi's blue eyes widened and then went to her Master, Semko, who was wiping her fingers on the bottom of her lightly soiled white and yellow bib.

"What do you think they're looking for?" Bibow whispered without turning toward him. Obi-Wan glanced toward her and only shrugged. One could never be sure how much Masters could hear, even in a huge noisy room. He and Bibow were both around nineteen standard years old, very close to the same size and with similar experience, though Obi-Wan's skills had proved more advanced in their sparring during a few early morning practice matches in the exercise area of their lodging. The two of them could be tested for similar abilities, but Ahmi and Dubbin were years younger and nowhere near the same skill level.

Obi-Wan looked at his own Master who calmly sipped his soup. If their dinner was some kind of test then all the Masters would have to know about it. And there were still a few general things that the Masters would want to see. Use of the Force. Judgement in using the Force. Skill. Confidence. Glancing to his right Obi-Wan speculated that if it was table manners then poor Dubbin would be in some trouble. The boy was following the usual etiquette of taking small bites. He was just taking a lot of them very quickly, his light blue bib covered with finger smears.

"We're just going to have to wait and find out," he whispered back to Bibow. She nodded and went back to her food, but she and Ahmi next to her ate very carefully now.

A serving droid arrived to refresh the pitchers and drinks. Qui-Gon raised his hand and asked for desert platter number eleven. To go. All the Padawans looked at each other. Even Dubbin realized that the Masters had to be up to something.

They ate their meals while the Masters conversed. Even if they had wanted to join in, the noisy room made it impractical. While Obi-Wan could hear most of what was being said, that was not good enough for conversation and they would be shouting at each other across the table.

All of the discussion was about the Intergalactic Law Enforcement Conference. One was held every few years, a huge event with hundreds of thousands of police, investigators and lawyers attending from all over the Republic and the Jedi always sent representatives to it. They were a minor item in the conference agenda but an important one since Jedi had authority directly under the Galactic Senate throughout the Republic. Qui-Gon, Obi-Wan and Hohkard were performed lightsaber demonstrations and occasionally answering questions. Hohkard doing most of the speaking parts.

Elest, Porum, Chatmaren and Semko participated in workshops, seminars and discussion groups. The other Padawans split their time between the policy and lightsaber activities. The entire conference was a purely routine assignment. Obi-Wan had been surprised to be going and he bluntly asked Qui-Gon if he was the reason they were being sent, since Padawans were encouraged to learn from such gatherings. And Qui-Gon Jinn was not the Jedi Council's first choice to represent the Order at official occassions. Qui-Gon had smiled back and complimented him for his perceptiveness.

The desert tray arrived about the time they were all finished and the droid scanned Qui-Gon's credit chip to pay for it. It contained a variety of sweets attractively arranged on a covered, clear plastoid tray with a carry handle on top. Obi-Wan was full at the moment, but he was sure that by the time they returned to their lodging he would be happy to sample some. Dubbin eyed the selection, clearly ready to try them now. The conference was winding down and they did not have any more lightsaber demonstrations until late in the afternoon.

They ripped their bibs off, leaving them at their places before they all put their robes on. Cleaning droids attacked the debris of their vacated table behind them. The Royah was only slightly less busy than it had been when they arrived. It was open all the time, day and night, where any being in the galaxy could come, pay and fill up.

The afternoon felt cooler because they had just eaten and Obi-Wan was glad of his robe. They boarded the next mega-tram back to the massive conference center, a building complex of white grids, struts and triangles of clear windows. From there, they went to another stop for a shuttle tram back to their lodging. It was full but they were allowed to stand between the rows of seats of conference attendees, a mix of uniformed and plain clothes security personnel. When they passed through the lobby of their modest lodging tower they saw a line of people at the front desk, checking out since the conference would be ending the next day.

They filled up a whole lift car going up to their mid-level, twenty-second floor suite. Once there, they took turns with the two freshers. Qui-Gon put the desert tray on a low table in the central room. Obi-Wan thought about retiring in side room he shared the other Padawans and Semko, but Qui-Gon signaled for him to sit. The other Masters did the same for the others. When they were assembled, all four Padawans faced all four Masters on opposing sofas in the suite's neat and utilitarian main room. Elest and Hohkard sat in chairs on either side of them. Elest stood.

"Now I am sure that you all noticed, Padawans, that you were observed during lunch. You two were certainly discussing it." She waved toward Obi-Wan and Bibow. Elest paced in front of the clear door out to the suite's small balcony with other tall buildings of the city a backdrop to her huge gray halo of frizzy hair.

"I've noticed some. . . .laxness in your habits Padawas and your Masters agreed to a little test for you to learn from." She made an up gesture toward Dubbin. He shyly got up and stood before her on the light gray carpet.

"Take off your robe Padawan," she instructed. Dubbin complied.

"Hold out your hands." Dubbin did so. They could all see the brown, blue and greenish smears on the bottoms of the sleeves of his tan tunic. And Dubbin's fingernails were dirty. He had not used his fingerbowl at the Royah and only relied on wiping his hands off on his bib. Dubbin looked horribly embarrassed, but his Master's reddish hued face was neutral. Obi-Wan wondered why Porum Kyas would allow this to happen to his own Padawan, but all the Masters sat silently in a row with passive expressions, even Qui-Gon.

Elest called up Ahmi next. The young black-haired girl had dark spots on the lap of her tunic and whitish smudges on her pants.

Bibow had a juice stain on one of her light brown tabards and a few rust-colors smears on the edge of the cuffs of her inner tunic.

Obi-Wan got up for his turn before Elest could ask. He was not wearing his robe and he stood at attention before the older woman. Elest frowned. Obi-Wan cleared his mind and thought about the last few lightsaber demonstrations he would be giving with Qui-Gon later. Elest moved her head from side to side. Then she asked Obi-Wan to turn around, but he knew she would not find anything there either. He had checked the seat of his orange plastoid chair before sitting down. He turned around again when Elest finally asked him to.

"Well, I am impressed," Chatmaren commented from her place on the sofa. "You were right; he is tidy."

"He is," Qui-Gon agreed and then turned his smug expression toward Elest who had a sour look on her own face.

Unhappy with his Master for putting him on display like this, Obi-Wan pressed his lips together and said nothing.

Qui-Gon sighed and continued. "And he certainly did a bit better than I did." He pushed aside one of his tabards. A long, watery brown stain dribbled down the front of his tunic underneath it. Obi-Wan wondered how Qui-Gon managed to do it since he had a bib around his neck during the whole meal.

"Oh, I've been careless, too," Semko announced. She pushed back her tunic sleeves, revealing brown spots on both arms of her undertunic almost up the her elbows.

"I was very sloppy with the sauce." Chatmaren showed off green smudges on her pants.

"I as well," Porum confessed. Underneath the long, flat fabric of the stole around her neck was a very big dark stain on her long tunic. She held the fabric of her offense up for Elest to see.

Then everyone looked at Knight Hohkard. She held up her pale purple hands in surrender.

"I'm not part of this. They're the ones you want," she pointed back to the blue sofa where the four Masters sat.

Elest stood there open-mouthed.

"Porum what is this? What kind of example could you be setting for your Padawan with this. . . prank?"

"Sympathy?" Semko piped up, her small brown eyes cheerful. She winked at Ahmi who grinned at her fellow Padawans and then back to her Master.

Porum sighed, her wrinkled reddish face clearly unhappy. "Elest I've said this to you before, so I know you will understand when I say that you can be exceptionally thick-headed sometimes. I told you days ago that you need to find a more positive outlet for your urge to organize our Padawans."

Elest did not move. Obi-Wan had not thought it possible to see such a doubtful look on her usually determined face.

"I. . . . don't know what you mean." Elest spoke the truth and Obi-Wan sensed that she now badly regretted her ignorance.

"Elest, if you find yourself. . ." Porum began sternly.

"Minding another person's Padawan. . . " Chatmaren continued.

"Then perhaps it is time for you. . . " Qui-Gon added.

"To get your ooooowwwwnnn," Semko finished loudly. Four glares looked up at Elest from the Masters' sofa.

Elest drew her light brown robe about her protectively, her hands disappearing into its wide sleeves.

"I'm. . . too old."

Everyone just stared at her, even Hokhard in her solitary chair.

"Elest, you're younger than I am," Porum told her.

"It's been a long time," Elest muttered, her voice full of memory. "I'm a bit out of practice."

"We can see that," Qui-Gon said. "But I am sure that the Force will guide you to a youngling who can teach you. Much." Qui-Gon's dark blue eyes settled on Obi-Wan who smiled back. They waited for Elest's answer.

"I will consider it." Elest bowed to them. "I beg forgiveness for my intrusions," she said meekly, another tone that Obi-Wan thought was not possible to hear from this woman.

Porum nodded to her. "If you wish to discuss it later, Elest, I am always available for you," she said gently to her friend. Elest mutely nodded back.

"And now," Qui-Gon began, sitting forward. He gave the carry handle of the desert cover a quick twist and removed it from the tray, liberating the sweet aromas from underneath. Dubbin sat up with interest. Qui-Gon smiled pleasantly at them all, including Elest.

"Desert."

**- - - END**

(This story was first posted on tf.n: 15-July-2007)

**Disclaimer:** All characters and situations belong to George and Lucasfilm; I'm just playing in their sandbox.


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